Happy birthday, Lauren

Happy birthday, dear Lauren. Today, you turn four.

You are the little imp who can't help but mug the camera when it's focused on someone else but would hide away if the camera is on  you; who would occasionally feel the need to see how loud you can yell, especially when you are in a car with windows all rolled up; who loves to find your sister's buttons and press them, one by one, deliberately. At home, you are exuberant, quick to laugh and sure of yourself. But out in the public, you are reserved and cautious. When you were little, you would cling to my side. I never needed to worry about you being lost, for you would never go far on your own. This summer, you started to venture out. You would run as far as you dare, laughing all the time, until I beckon you back, or until you are far enough that I must fit between your thumb and index finger when you look back, you would than do your crazy run back, big steps, swinging arms, hair swaying wildly, laughing all the way.

You love your siblings, and I love watching you play mommy with your older sister, or chase with your younger brother. You are quick to defend yourself or hold your ground if someone encroaches on your space or take your things. But you are also willing to let your sister persuade you or keep your brother happy. Often times, you can be reasoned with. You would be on the verge of tears and rein it in, blinking hard, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, if we present you with a logical reason to do so. It is quite a feat to witness. You are, after all, just four. When the hurt or unjust is too deep for you to resist, you would succumb to emotions and let it out, sometimes even asking to go to the bathroom so you can cry and scream in earnest. But it never lasts too long. Once you are done, you'd wipe your eyes and on with life again.

You have very clear ideas of what you want to achieve, and how you want to do it. You have yet deigned to humor my attempts to get you to practice your letters. You've learned to sign your name, however. When you want to, you will sign your name one alphabet at a time, slowly and deliberately, once, and that's it. No matter how they turned out, you are done. The van's door needs a bit more strength to open than a four year old could easily muster? You pull at it with all your might, using your body weight, straining and leaning away from the van. If one try doesn't work, you pull and pull and pull at it again in quick succession, using your whole being to operate it. Finally, you found that if you leap while you pull, you are able to trigger the door opening sensor in one go. That is how you do it now. With a leap. It is hilarious to watch.

One day you decided that you want to learn to a piano piece, so I taught you Mary had a Little Lamb. An easy piece that mostly uses only three fingers to play. The day we did this, you practiced on the piano by yourself for about 40 minutes. Long after I left your side and refusing your Nanny's request to stop. Over and over you played. Sometimes half-closing the lid so you can see the note name on far end of the piano key, E-D-C, you'd search, placing your finger with beautiful form on the correct keys.

Just four, you are filled with big, big questions. Where did people come from? How did the world start? Who taught the first people how to do things? Why are you a girl and your brother a boy? The scope of your questions are so big I often don't know where to begin, or how to explain it to a preschooler.The questions surprised, challenged, and delighted me. They offered me a glimpse of how you are observing the world, reflecting on what you know, and wondering about how things fit or work together. I've come to recognize your I-have-been-thinking tone, and wait for your question with bated breath not unlike a child on Christmas morning waiting to see what Santa has brought them.

The other day, on our way home from school, you all of a sudden had a scary thought. "Mommy," you cried, and I can hear the urgency in your voice, "what if I don't know how to go home?" "You can call me and I will go pick you up," I told you. "Even after I have a baby and I am a mommy?" you followed. "Even after you have a baby and become a mommy." Silly girl, don't you know that no matter how old you are, no matter what you became, when you need me, I will go and bring you home. We love you. For all your questions, never question that.